


After Hours

by heckalotta



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 5 Things, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, General Descriptions of Violence, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Scars, Season by Season, Seasons 1-5, Written Pre-Season 6, well up until s6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-29 04:03:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14464596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heckalotta/pseuds/heckalotta
Summary: The main deck of the castleship is a calming place to be in the night. It's a good place to clear your head.This is especially true for two paladins.He’s certainly not expecting to see Lance up here at this hour of the night, sitting on the floor in his PJs. Lance turns around, wide-eyed, seeming just as surprised to see Keith as Keith is to see him.Not in the mood for quarrelling, Keith turns around, saying “Sorry. I’ll leave.”“No, wait,” Lance calls after him. “Don’t leave just ‘cause I’m here.”Keith turns around, confused. “What?”





	After Hours

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to my friend Tamara for beta-reading! <3  
> please heed the violence tag, it's nothing extreme, and you don't see it happen, but there is a brief description of some violence.
> 
>  
> 
> [1/3/19] I wrote this in hopes to explore the (slightly!) darker side to being a paladin and whatnot. This was posted pre-s6, or pre-VLD completely derailing and using the "war is hard" rhetoric to justify their poor... plot choices. I still think this fic holds up, but unfortunately the original premise/idea that inspired it has been all but spat on by canon.

Trying to find a starting point to all of these late nights is like trying to recall a dream that leaves as one wakes. You remember one distinct part, but everything else is a little hazy. It’s there, however, regardless of how much you remember, regardless of how much slips from the mind like sand through your fingers.

**_1._ **

The first time Keith remembers was shortly before they fell into that wormhole, soon after initially being launched unexpectedly into space via large, blue, metallic lion. A chaotic start to something a lot larger than any of the paladins could’ve expected at the time. It feels so long ago.  


It’s quiet on the bridge of the ship as Keith wanders onto it. Clad in his usual outfit, minus his footwear, he remembers the quiet but announcing noise of his bare feet padding on the floor. There’s no lights on, just the view of billions upon billions of stars out the window to guide the way.  


He’s certainly not expecting to see Lance up here at this hour of the night, sitting on the floor in his PJs, with his robe pooling around his hips. His back, scarred and ravaged by the explosion that shook the ship a few days prior, is unintentionally on display. Lance turns around, wide-eyed, seeming just as surprised to see Keith as Keith is to see him.  


Not in the mood for quarrelling, Keith turns around, saying “Sorry. I’ll leave.”  


“No, wait,” Lance calls after him. “Don’t leave just ‘cause I’m here.”  


Keith turns around, confused. “What?”  


Lance shifts awkwardly, and he seems uncertain before he hardens his expression into something dismissive.  


“There’s a lot of space up here,” he says. “If you wanna sit here to clear your mind, go for it.”  


“Okay…?” Keith says hesitantly, and turns back into the room. He’s not really sure what to do with himself, so he sits down his chair, the large showy ones that each of the paladins have around the castleship’s central control. He’s behind Lance, and can’t help examining the heavy scarring on Lance’s back.  


“Does it hurt?” He ends up blurting. Keith hasn’t been in one of the healing pods as of the moment. Does it hurt the whole time you’re in one, or is it like being unconscious? Keith’s got his fair share of scars, some more impressive than others, but none as severe as… that.  


Lance turns back from stargazing to face Keith, looking startled.  


“Does what hurt?” He asks, almost suspiciously.  


“Your back,” Keith answers.  


“Oh,” Lance says, and looks significantly less defensive. “I thought you meantー uh, nevermind. It’s achey, if that makes any sense. It doesn’t hurt, not like when I first got, um, blown up, but it’s like…” His eyebrows scrunch up, unsure of how to describe it.  


“Like a phantom pain?” Keith suggests, and Lance’s expression eases.  


“Yeah, kinda like that. My shirt kept brushing against it, and it felt weird, so.” He gestures to his bedrobe.  


“I get it,” Keith nods to himself. Lance smiles briefly at him, before turning back to the view in front of him.

Keith’s not sure how much that night ended up mattering in the long run, but he supposes he can point to it as a start.

**_2._ **

The second time is a night or two after Keith gets back from that Marmora base, hidden between two black holes. Keith’s on edge. He went there for answers, and got them in the form of seeing his _dad_ , after getting the snot kicked out of him by multiple aliens twice his size. They weren’t even good answers. Now Allura hates him for what he is: half-Galra.  


He runs into Lance as they’re both heading towards the bridge. Lance, who does not seem pleased at the moment.  


“Oh, great,” he says angrily. “It’s _you_.” The words hurt more than they should; he and Lance have always had a weird relationship, and seeing Lance mad at him for _who knows what_ isn’t surprising at all. Keith’s just had a rough few days, and he doesn’t need this right now.  


“Listen,” he hisses out from between clenched teeth. “I just want to go sit on the main deck, and not get into any fights with anyone. Okay?”  


Lance sneers at him. “ _Yeah_ , well maybe that’s what I want to do too!”  


“Fine!”  


“Fine!”  


The two walk together in aggressive silence, and pointedly sit all the way across the room from each other. They sit in silence for a while, and Keith rubs at his shoulder, the one that was all but sliced off on that Blade base. Well, that might be over-exaggerating a bit. It did hurt though.  


“Why did Shiro even let you go on that mission, anyways?” He catches Lance grumbling to himself, and whips left to face him in a fit of rage.  


“ _Excuse_ me?” He barks.  


“I said what I said!” Lance shouts back. “Coming back all beat up and stuff…”  


“What, would _you_ rather be the one who got beat up?”  


“Yeah, maybe!” Lance exclaims before thinking. He looks shocked and embarrassed a moment after blurting it, but he doesn’t take it back. He looks at the wall to his left, and leans a bit more heavily against it.  


“You’ve been rubbing at your shoulder like that all day,” Lance says unprompted. He’s no longer yelling. Keith is silent for a moment, not entirely sure what to say.  


“You were right about it feeling like a phantom pain,” Keith comments. “You get out of the healing pod, and it feels like it should be hurting, but it’s… not.”  


Lance nods lightly. “Yeah…” Silence reigns again, and Keith shifts uncomfortably.  


“That’s what you’re upset about?” Keith says. He knows it was loud enough for Lance to hear, but Lance ignores him, face still a little flushed with embarrassment.  


“You’re not mad about me being Galra?” Keith tries again, loudly. Saying it feels like ripping off a bandaid. Lance turns to him in shock.  


“What? Dude, no. I’m notー I wouldn’t be mad at you for something like that. It’s not like you chose to be born into a race of universal-genocidersー” Both boys flinch.  


“Er, uhー sorry. That was supposed to be funny but it just sounded really bad. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just, _ugh_.” Lance flails an arm about. “What I mean is, you can’t help that you were born who you are, Keith. And yeah, the Galra have done some pretty crappy stuff, but that doesn’t mean you _have to be_ or _are_ anything like that.”  


Hesitantly, Lance scooches a little closer from his side of the room.  


“And yeah, some people may look a little differently at you, but you’re not gonna go around and start, like, conquering planets. You sure as hell didn’t conquer Earth.” Lance clears his throat, as his voice cracks on the world _Earth_.  
Keith huffs weakly in amusement at his comment. “Tell that to Allura. She hates me.”  


“She doesn’t hate you,” Lance is quick to correct, and hurriedly continues on as Keith opens his mouth to argue. “The Galra destroyed her whole race, Keith. Her entire homeplanet. She can never get that back.” For a moment, Lance sounds and looks like he’s going to cry, but clears his throat once more to stop his shaky voice and continues on.  


“Just be patient with her, okay? She’ll come around. I thinkー if I was in her position, I think I would’ve pushed you out an airlock by now.” Lance laughs a little. “She’s more forgiving than you’re probably thinking.”  


Keith pulls his knees up and rests his chin on them. He doesn’t really see Allura coming around anytime soon, and Allura is in charge of the whole ship. He, ah, doesn’t want to be space-homeless. He… doesn’t really want to leave the team, either. Everyone has really started to become like family, which is frightening enough in it’s own right, but now that he’s part of one…  


Lance must pick up on his confliction, and in one determined butt-scooch, he’s crossing the room to sit next to Keith.  


“Hey,” he says. “That constellation up there looks like an ice cream cone.” Keith looks over to examine Lance’s face, then follows his pointing finger out the glass.  


“It kinda looks like a unicorn.”  


“Whー! How?” Lance tilts his head this and that way, trying to see what Keith’s seeing. He’s just about twisted his whole torso upside down before he relents.  


“Fine. From _this angle_ , it _kinda_ looks like a unicorn, I guess. But barely.” Keith chuckles at the antics.  


They continue on with their silly game for what’s perhaps a few hours. Time is weird in space. They do eventually turn in for the evening with a friendly ‘goodnight’, and as Keith’s head hits his pillow, all his worries come running back, surely to torment him until the early hours.  


But it was nice to forget, if even for a while.

**_3._ **

This time, Keith’s first on the bridge of the ship. He sits at the base of Shiro’s chair, head in his hands. He’s probably shaking.  
Keith knew that fighting, being the main driving force of an intergalactic _war_ would have its dangers, would have its pains. But he never could’ve prepared himself for _this_. Should he have expected it? Yes. But did he? No. He had _gotten_ Shiro back, after he had spent so long convincing himself he was really gone. 

He’d lost him, then got him back, almost like a second chance, only to have Shiro ripped away again.  


_He had put Shiro to_ death, _mourned him_ ー  


In his misery, he fails to hear the footsteps approach from behind him. A hand lands gently on his shoulder, and Keith yanks away, rearing to get up and _fight_ ー  


“Woah!” Lance says, and it’s _Lance_ , just Lance. Keith stands down, but doesn’t meet his eyes.  


“Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have done that.” Lance purses his lips, looking worried.  


“S’whatever,” Keith mumbles.  


“Do… do you…” Lance tries. “I’m sorry.”  


Keith just looks away.  


“I never was really that close to him, y’know, besides him being an inspirationー”  


“Stop,” Keith chokes out, and Lance does just that, waiting for Keith to elaborate. “Stop talking like, like he’s… People talked like that _all_ the time.”  


“I don’t understand.”  


Keith whirls on him, very clearly enraged. “Like he’s _dead!_ ‘My condolences, Keith, Shirogane was a very commendable man,’” he mocks, “‘I knew him around the Garrison, I know how you must be feeling’, _bullshit!”_  


Keith’s heaving for breath, and Lance just watches.  


“He was right there, just in his lion like everyone else, and then he _vanished_. People can’t do that, Lance! People can’t just, can’t just, just _leave_ like that, because if people can leave like that, they’ll just _go!”_ He screams the last bit. It’s late, the other residents of the castle are trying to sleep. He can’t bring himself to care.  


“Keith…” Lance says, voice full of pity. Keith can’t decide if he hates it or not.  


“B-because if people can just leave like that,” he says, voice watery, and _oh God, he’s gonna cry_ , “then they’ll just leave. Every time.”  


“Keith, _please_ ,” Lance whispers, and stretches his arms out. He wants a hug. The idea shouldn’t feel like a smack across the face; like cold water’s been dumped on him. After a moment of Lance holding out his arms and just waiting, Keith takes one step, two steps, and allows Lance’s arms to wrap around his back. Keith doesn’t quite hug back.  


Keith hears, to his surprise, Lance sniffing.  


“I don’t know who made you feel like that,” he says, clearly upset, “but I’m so sorry that they did. I’m so, so sorry.”  


Lance’s anguish at Keith’s woe crushes Keith with guilt. They stand there, embracing, for a long time.  


Nobody wins that night.

**_4._ **

The Blade of Marmora base Keith has been staying at has been quiet, to say the least. Sure, things get loud enough on missions: there’s orders to be relayed, intel to communicate back, gunfire, the clashing of swords, explosions, ships launching and returning…  


But in the aftermath, he and whoever else survive return back to the base, and that’s that. A lot of inbetween time is just waiting. Keith doesn’t bother to socialize, not when everyone around him is dropping like flies anyways.  


He’s tossing and turning in bed, exhausted from the last mission they returned from; mind racing. It had been fairly regular at first, just sneaking around larger Galra Empire ships, nabbing info all across the ship. Something about supply routes for a later attack.  


They’d been caught at one of their last stops across the cruiser, and ended up racing back to where they’d hid their own ships in an empty docking bay. They were running through the hanger, mere steps from freedom, when shots rang out, and the Blade members around him dropped dead, but Keith made it out. They had the intel. The mission was a success, even if three had died in the retrieval of that intel. With Voltron, something like that would never be considered a full success.  


Deciding that the sound of their collective footsteps ringing out in the hanger won’t stop playing over in his head tonight, Keith drags his weary bones out of bed, and heads to the observatory in the base. It’s not quite like the main deck in the castleship, but it still has that window out to space, so it’s better than nothing.  


He enters the room, and looks around for anyone else, but of course it’s empty. It’s after hours, and with the constant running around the Blade does, anyone in their right mind would be in bed, no matter how sleepless they were. Keith doesn’t know why he feels disappointed to find himself alone.  


He walks over to the large domed window that substitutes as a wall and ceiling, and sits little more than a foot away from the glass, cross-legged. There’s a wonderful galaxy in sight from here, swirling in a way that’s so, _so_ similar to the Milky Way. It almost makes Keith homesick.  


Keith stands abruptly. He knows there’s a way to hail other ships from this room, and a scan of the room behind him finds a little monitor, tucked away in the corner. Hesitantly, he makes his way over, and pulls up the contact codes for the castleship. He stares briefly down at the dial button. It’s all in a Galran language, but he’s been picking bits of it up throughout his missions. He supposes it’s at least one thing he can thank the Blade for.  


Before he really weighs the possible outcomes of his actions, Keith presses that call button, and waits as a signal is broadcasted across the expanse of space. A minute passes, and he considers hanging up altogether, when he’s unexpectedly patched through.  


He sees Lance, standing alone on the bridge in his sleepwear, looking a little ragged.  


“... Keith?” Lance asks hesitantly, as if he can’t believe his eyes.  


“Uh. Hi,” Keith responds eloquently.  


“Do you need something? Is there an emergency?” Lance stands straighter, and a serious expression overcomes his face. Keith’s taken aback: it’s a charming look on Lance.  


“N-no, everything’s fine,” Keith stutters out. Lance’s tense shoulders drop, and he almost looks relieved.  


“Okay,” Lance breaths out. “Why… why are you calling then?”  


“I don’t really know,” Keith admits. “I was, er, I’m calling from the observation deck. I came up here because… I couldn’t sleep, and it reminded me of the castle.”  


“Oh,” Lance says very softly, and a painfully fond look overcomes his features. “I’ve been having troubles sleeping tonight, too.”  


“Is everything okay?”  


Lance shifts in place. “We… we had been talking to a planet about the Voltron alliance,” he begins. “All suited up for good first impressions, y’know. The Qwybtt, the inhabitants of the planet, didn’t bring up the fact there was a civil war going on…” He closes his eyes and shudders.  


“Lance?” Keith prompts worriedly.  


“Thereー there was an attack on the building where we had been consulting with some political figure, I-I don’t know, a prime minister or somethingー I was talking to him, and someone came up behind him and slit his throat. His blood got all over my armour,” Lance finishes nonsensically, as if he were joking, but there’s no humor to be found anywhere in his voice.  


“O-oh.”  


“H-his daughter was there, crying all over his corpse.” He swallows nervously. “Anyways. What’s keeping you up?”  


“Blade mission,” Keith says, a little pained. “Four of us went out. I was the only one that came back.”  


"That’s…” Lance looks like he’s at a loss for words. “That must be difficult for you. I’m sorry.”  


_I keep hearing the sound of the bullets tearing through their bodies, the sound of their corpses hitting the floor._  


“War’s hard on everyone,” Keith says instead. “I wish you didn’t have to see what you saw today.”  


“Me too,” he barely hears Lance whisper, before he’s turning his head to the side and scrubbing aggressively at his eyes. Keith realizes, a little late, that he’s crying.  


“Lance…?”  


“We’re just kids,” he hears Lance croak out. “I’m not even a legal adult on Earth, I don’t want to see this stuff!” His sobs become audible. “The flying and the piloting is fun, I like that, I like freeing people from evil space dictators, not- not _this_.”  


Not for the first time, Keith wishes he was back on the castle with everyone else, but this time, with the sole intent to embrace Lance, and sooth him.  


“Sorry,” Lance manages, trying to get his crying under control.  


“Don’t apologize,” Keith says quickly back. “I understand how you’re feeling.”  


“I want to go home,” Lance blurts.  


“Me too,” Keith says, but he’s not thinking of Earth.  


“Could you… could you stay on the line a little longer?”  


“Of course.”  


They sit in silence until Lance has calmed himself, and from there, talk about nothing until they both fall asleep. Keith’s reprimanded later for keeping a communication line running for so long, especially to Voltron’s ship. It’s dangerous, because if anyone managed to find said signal, they could trace it back to both the Blade base and the castleship.  


Keith agrees, and acknowledges his error. But he doesn’t apologize.

**_5._ **

Once more, Keith finds himself on the castle’s main deck, next to Lance. He arrived from the Blade late in the evening cycle of the ship, with Kroliaー _his mother_ , in tow. There was a lot of explaining to do, how they met, why they left the Blade (Krolia was insistent Keith did not stay, probably due to the Blade’s sacrificial tendencies), etcetera.  


There were hugs all around, and a group dinner with lots of avid discussion and joking, and slowly, Keith felt the hole in his heart being alone with the Blade had created slowly fill again. He forgot how much he missed this, how much he missed being home.  


Of course, not everything was that easy. There was still the issue of the fracturing Galra Empire, and on a more personal note, his mother. The whole situation is confusing, which is what Lance is here for. If anyone knows family, Keith supposes, it’s him. They’re sitting shoulder to shoulder in the middle of the main deck, this time watching clouds swirl around a pink planet below.  


“I just don’t know,” he’s saying. “She’s been gone all my life, and now she’s just… back in it, just like that.” Lance nods along. “And, she missed so much, y’know? She never saw me grow up, she wasn’t there when my dad vanished. She could’ve made things a lot easier for me,” Keith finishes, angrily.  


“If I’m honest, I think that’s what she was trying to do,” Lance offers. “You can’t really blend in with the local human population if you’re tall and purple.” Keith snorts.  


“Yeah, I guess.”  


“She probably didn’t want you to get wrapped up in this war either.”  


“She couldn’t have, like, sent a postcard or something? Anything? All she left me was her knife. That doesn’t really mean much when you’re six.”  


Lance laughs a little. “Yeah, you’re right…” Lance turns to look Keith in the eyes. “I think you should give her a chance, at least. Family’s important.”  


Keith thinks of the paladins of Voltron. “Yeah. I know.”  


“That doesn’t mean you have to let her into your life if she sucks big-time, though,” Lance elaborates resolutely, and Keith chuckles. “It’s your call.”  


“Thanks, Lance,” Keith says, smiling warmly. Lance looks shocked for a moment, before he melts into a big, dopey smile, and leans over to rest his head against Keith’s shoulder.  


“I’m glad you’re back,” he says quietly. “I really missed you.”  


“I missed you too,” Keith says hoarsely.  


“I worried about you a lot, y’know,” Lance frowns a little. “I don’t like the Blade of Marmora’s moral. Too depressing.”  


“You got that right…”  


A few minutes pass, and Lance is quiet against Keith’s shoulder.  


“How have you guys been holding up?”  


“Hm?” Lance says, blinking up at Keith. He must’ve been asleep. Oops. “Oh, same old. We’ve managed to boost Lotor into emperor position, I guess.” Lance waves a dismissive hand. “Actually Lotor and Allura flew into a white hole, like the reverse of a black hole, to get to some magical, mythical Altean place. It was pretty crazy.”  


“The princess? And _Lotor?”_  


“Ugh, I know. She deserves someone _way_ better.”  


“Like you?” Keith jokes, but he can’t find any humor to say it with. Lance just shrugs.  


“Maybe. I’ve, uh, had my sights set on someone else as of late, honestly.” He’s blushing now. Him being over the princess is new, but the rest isn’t.  


“Some pretty face on some planet?”  


“Not quite… they are pretty, though, but not exactly planetside.” Lance looks up, with a shy expression, and Keith thinks he’s missing something.  


“Dark hair, dark eyes, brooding, handsome, bad temper… takes off to do dangerous crap all the time,” Lance lists off. “I think you know him, actually.”  


Keith’s doing the mental math, and, _wait_ , that sounds likeー “Me?” His mouth drops open in shock. Lance bites his lip and looks away, blushing.  


“Maybe…”  


Keith’s expression is something along the lines of _“!!!”_  


“Oh,” he responds. “Is thatー is that good?”  


Lance looks up again, mouth gaping. “You tell me!”  


“Yes, yeah, I think so,” Keith says, a little breathlessly, and Lance laughs at him.  


“You’re _such_ a dork,” he says, and tackles Keith to the ground in a hug.  


“Oof,” Keith says, as his back hits the ground. He opens his eyes to see Lance laying across him.  


“Does this change anything?” He finds himself asking.  


“A little bit, I think,” Lance answers. “But not so much.” Keith nods seriously along.  
“What does that make us now…?”  


“I’m- I’m not sure yet.” Lance looks nervous.  


“Oh,” Keith says. “Well, that’s okay.”  


“Yeah?”  


“Yeah.”  


A crooked smile crosses Lance’s features. “You know what this means?”  


“What?” Keith asks suspiciously.  


“It means I can do _this_.” Lance leans down, and covers Keith’s cheeks and forehead with kisses, all while he squirms and laughs under Lance’s attention, until Keith rolls them over to stop Lance’s onslaught.  


Lance laughs from under him, before looking honestly and openly up at Keith. Keith feels something warm and happy in his chest. He’s somehow managed to get all of Lance’s undivided attention, and it feels personal, private.  


“Do we have to tell the others right away?”  


Lance frowns a little, contemplating this, and Keith wants to kick himself.  


“No,” Lance settles on. “I think we should wait until we’re both ready.” Keith nods in agreeance, and Lance beams up again. His heart can’t take it, so Keith plunks his forehead down in the crook of Lance’s neck.  


“I’m glad I have you out here,” Keith whispers. He feels Lance’s arms wrap around his back tightly.  


“Me too,” he whispers back, “me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for giving this a read! I hope you enjoyed.  
> I know I haven't posted in a while, but I'm working on something pretty big, so I hope I can get it out in the next few months... ^^'
> 
> (also, nothing against Lotor, but... Allura, plz date me instead)
> 
>  
> 
> formatting anything in AO3 is hell


End file.
